


When Our Bodies Glow

by crushcandles



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Pre-Canon, Sleepy Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 15:48:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18814033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crushcandles/pseuds/crushcandles
Summary: It's not so much the shifting of the covers or the cool draft that wakes Loras, as it’s the warm hand on his thigh.





	When Our Bodies Glow

**Author's Note:**

> Currently in 2019, but living like it’s 2012 to make up for lost time. Pre-series, but probably more show canon than book canon. Title from [Summertime Clothes](https://youtu.be/ZfHHj35XWdQ) by Animal Collective.

It's not so much the shifting of the covers or the cool draft that wakes Loras, as it’s the warm hand on his thigh. The hand is firm but gentle, giving no strike. It’s just cupping the outside, squeezing a little. Loras sighs, surfacing enough to take a breath in the waking world. 

"What are you doing?" he asks his pillow, mouth half-buried. 

"Getting into bed," the owner of the hand says. It's joined by the rest of a bare body, warmer and even more solid than the hand. The hand squeezes again, rubs up and down an inch as the voice says, "I must say, there's nothing like being greeted by a sweet, sleepy boy when you get there. Especially if he’s not bothered with his nightclothes."

Loras tries to talk, but he's still swimming in his sleep. He clears his throat as the body settles against him so they're hip to hip and close all the way down. Loras lifts his mouth and tries again. "My lord, this is _my_ bed."

Renly tuts, up on his elbow. Loras can't see him; he isn't facing the right way, and it's too dark. He never leaves a light burning. Loras is careful to keep his things in their rightful places, and besides, anyone who needs to can find their way in the dark. 

Renly's hand moves over his thigh again, starting to curve around the front of his leg, closer to where it's against his other thigh. But still the touch is firm and comfortable, not quite lustful yet. Renly's chest presses to the back of Loras' shoulder as he leans over. 

"Nonsense," Renly murmurs from very close as Loras turns his mouth to the sound, anticipating. "Any bed with you in it is my bed."

Renly's kiss is as warm and heavy as his hand, swallowing whatever jest Loras' sleep-soft brain comes up with. It's a good kiss, familiar. Renly's tongue dips into his mouth, bringing with it the faint taste of the end of a long party: wine and spices and smoke. Loras can only turn so far to meet it with Renly snugged up behind him. The best he can do is give Renly his tongue in return and pass his fingers over Renly's on his thigh. 

Renly must be in a mood because he doesn't just stop kissing Loras all at once. He lingers with sweet kisses until Loras feels drugged, even after Renly's mouth has lifted. Renly keeps rubbing his thigh, fingers sneaking into the seam between his knees. 

"Where did you go tonight?" Renly asks. His mouth passes over Loras' cheek, near his eye.

Loras could lie, say he found a beautiful man with a thick cock to distract him from yet another one of Storm's End's summer festivals. But Renly's kisses and the heat from his body have seeped into Loras, pushing the truth to the surface. 

"Stables," he says as Renly kisses the soft flat space in front of his ear. He doesn't stifle the soft noise that kiss draws from him, riding the end of his breath. 

"You're not a squire anymore, you know," Renly tells him. His hand skims up over Loras' belly. "You don't have to curry the horses."

"I know," Loras says, distracted by the next kiss and Renly's hand, his lightly scratching nails. "I didn't feel like making merry tonight." He’s still speaking truth. High summer always brings heat and plenty of visitors with it. The parties are a must; everyone deserves their time to shine in Renly’s lordly light. Loras loves a good party, but even he’s had his fill of the same old stories and dances. The stables are quiet as a tomb in comparison, and the horses rarely try to seduce you.

"Mmm-hmm." Renly's tongue touches Loras' earlobe, his neck. Loras shivers and Renly holds him tighter, rocking their bodies together. “It must be very difficult, being forced to listen to the simpering.” His voice climbs higher. “ _Oh, Ser Loras. I heard you defeated Ser Who Gives a Shit at the tourney and then took a hundred maids to bed and not one has any complaints._ ”

Loras snorts. “Sounds like it’s more difficult for you to endure than me.”

Renly kisses Loras on his neck. “I try and do my part to manage expectations. I tell them you only win so much because you’re a sore loser and that you’re a real bear when you wake, no matter how many maidens are in your bed.”

“My sincere apologies to the maidens,” Loras murmurs, settling in to the rising warmth in the bed, tilting back against Renly’s body. He feels good, tired and content now that he’s alone with Renly, want slowly simmering in his pelvis. 

He can feel Renly’s smile against his neck, how soft his mouth is when he asks: “Will you make merry now?”

"No," Loras tells the dark. "I'm too tired." He’s still facing the wrong way; Renly can’t see his smile. 

Renly's smile grows wider, not put off at all, and his hand moves down again. Not to touch Loras’ thigh or belly this time, but his half-hard cock. 

"Are you now?" he whispers, hot breath trickling down Loras' collar. He touches Loras' cock the same way he touched Loras' thigh: gentle, firm, squeezing. 

Loras nods, leaning back into Reny's body, stretching along the length of it as his cock fills Renly's hand. Renly's cock is pressed to the cleft of his ass, mostly hard. Loras shifts, just to get the feel of it dragging against him.

"What if I do all the work?" Renly mutters, still stroking. "Do you think I can make you merry?"

Loras has to swallow when Renly's thumb sweeps over the tender head of his cock. Under the covers his body feels hot and heavy. The places where he and Renly are touching especially so.

"Hmm?" Renly prompts. “Shall I try?”

His breath goes over Loras' mouth and Loras turns to it, lifting his head.

"Please," he says into Renly's open mouth. 

This kiss isn't sweet. It's open from the first, tongues together, Renly's pleased noise passing into Loras' mouth. Loras twitches against Renly, his shoulder pressing back until Renly lets him loose so he can turn onto his back.

He's not alone long; Renly slides over him like a shadow, belly to belly. His cock finds the groove of Loras' hip, its home for years now, same as his hand on the side of Loras' neck.

Loras pushes up against him, holds Renly still with fingers on his strong shoulders, gives and takes with his mouth until it feels like he'll die. He's panting like a hound when Renly's mouth finally moves away, too hot in his skin.

The feeling fades rapidly when Renly sits up, the covers sliding down his back, letting in the cooler air. Gooseflesh sweeps over Loras. Suddenly he’s sensitive all over: his nipples, belly and cock pull tight for want of Renly’s body back.

But Renly only sidles further away, giving Loras more cool air, more distance. Loras shivers, holding his tongue. It rarely serves him to beg Renly. 

"On your belly," Renly murmurs, his hand passing thigh to thigh. "The work is mine tonight. I promised."

Loras' back prickles when he turns over, sacrificing more hot skin to the night air. He puts his face in the pillow, rubs his cheek there, lifting his shoulders and settling them, soothing himself as if he’s sleeping still. 

He can’t see Renly, but he can feel how Renly leans up and over his body. His fingers find the decanter of oil without touching anything else Loras keep at his bedside, the candle or the blade. Loras thanks the gods he’s a creature of habits and places as he listens to Renly dip his fingers. 

Renly keeps one hand for himself – Loras can hear oiled fingers stroking a cock – but gives the other to Loras, using it to spread Loras’ ass, his thumb nestling close to Loras’ balls.

Loras hasn’t had a touch there in days, and he’s still murky from sleep and now hazy with arousal, so the feeling makes his thigh flex, and again harder when Renly’s thumb skims over him. Urgency sweeps over him.

“Renly,” he asks his pillow.

“Mmm?” Renly’s knees settle on the outside of Loras’. His voice is thick with his own pleasure and his hand on himself is still moving, slick and slow. 

Loras arches back. He can only open his knees so far, just enough to lift his cock from the bed and push against the thumb he’s under. Renly’s thumb pushes back, firm against the space between Loras’ balls and his hole and pleasure crackles through Loras like summer lightning. His hips jerk and the sound he makes is shaky.

Renly does it again, swiveling his thumb. Loras’ body follows like it’s tied by string to Renly’s knuckle. He can still hear Renly’s fist moving over himself, see the image clear as day in his mind, Renly’s spread thighs and his thick cock. 

He reaches back, blind, gripping the cap of Renly’s knee. Maybe Renly means to spend on him like this, but Loras wants more than that, much more than the brotherly touch of their knees. He lifts his face, turns it to see the outline of Renly’s moving shoulder

“Renly,” he says, letting his need shine through.

The slick sounds stop; Renly’s shoulder dips, stills

“Yes,” he answers, steady somehow, and his hands, oiled and clean, pull Loras back, guide his thighs together even as Renly’s cock makes a space for itself between them. Renly pushes in and out again before his body covers Loras’, his knees keeping Loras’ closed and his weight pinning Loras to the bed. Renly grinds as deep as he can, making a noise and then choking on it. He tucks his fingers into the sweaty ditches of Loras’ elbows, holding him down.

“My sweet boy,” Renly calls him and Loras shuts his eyes, shivering, the fever that Renly inspires washing over him. He closes his thighs tighter for Renly, to better feel the stroke of his cock. They both grunt, Loras into the pillow, Renly into Loras’ neck.

“I thought of you,” Renly whispers, “while you were gone.” His hips find a long, stirring rhythm. “Like this, just like this.”

The heat is gasping out between their bodies. Loras is slick with sweat, struggling to dig his toes into the mattress to push up. Renly’s cock fills the space between Loras’ thighs, head bumping into his balls with each stroke. He feels like a mess already, oil and Renly’s pre-spend between his thighs. He can hear the sounds of it, the heavy wetness of their skin coming together and apart.

Renly’s hand rakes up his thigh and Loras bites his lip to keep himself quiet, trying to remember the hour. He doesn’t know how it can be good for Renly with him wriggling around like he is, but Renly’s still thrusting against him, close to inside sometimes, taking the harsh breaths that mean he’s close. 

“Oh, Gods,” Renly groans into Loras’ hair, and he must be far gone if he’s invoking a higher power than Robert. The deep strokes turn short and fast, for Renly’s pleasure now. His hands hold Loras fast as his moaning mouth rides Loras’ ear.

His come feels hot enough to burn on the rubbed skin between Loras’ thighs. Loras squeezes tightly, Renly’s cock kicking against him, the wet head pushing hard against his balls.

Renly kisses the side of his mouth, artless but hungry, stroking slow and deep a few times until he pulls out, the weight of his cock against the back of Loras’ leg instead of between. Its absence feels strange. Loras presses his thighs together, missing Renly’s cock as his own aches against the bedding.

Renly lifts off him, but it’s only so he can help Loras turn onto his back again and reclaim his place between Loras’ legs. Loras is blurrily grateful he’s not the same kind of romantic as Renly, who fancies furs on the bed. It’d be such a mess.

Renly’s hands on his thighs are warm and firm, holding back the trembles racings through Loras. His mouth is warm too, his tongue sweeping hotly over Loras’ thighs, his balls, lower. His summer beard’s at just the right length to prickle maddeningly where it touches Loras’ skin. 

Not that Loras cares. He wants every touch Renly will give him now, pain or pleasure or both, it doesn’t matter. He just wants to get enough, one hand on Renly’s wrist, the other in his hair, both pulling. 

He can’t even talk, can only grasp and guide until Renly’s mouth is on the head of his cock, so hot but too loose. He groans, close to the end anyway. 

Renly holds his right leg back, but drops the other so he put his hand back between Loras’ thighs, rubbing at everything he touched with his tongue. With his fingers pressed to the entrance to Loras’ body, he tightens his lips around Loras’ cock and the first pull of his mouth brings Loras near tears. 

He calls out, no words, just a gasping noise. He does it again when Renly’s tongue curves around him, making a bed for his cock to lie against. He rubs against it once, twice, and then is lost in the dark, gone if it weren’t for Renly’s capable hands and the heat of his mouth holding him.

Renly swallows around him, thumb stroking over him again, but softer, only coaxing what he has to give out of him instead of forcing it. The strong sucks after are almost soothing in their steadiness, as are the sounds of Renly’s mouth slowing down and releasing Loras’ cock.

Loras can see nothing save the faint grey moonlight on the ceiling. He stares at it until Renly’s messy hair and broad shoulder eclipse it as he comes up to lie beside Loras.

He must not care about the slickness of their bodies or their radiating heat; he pulls Loras along his side, cupping his neck, his nose against Loras’ cheek. 

“Gods,” Loras says, to himself, to Renly, to the faint light of the far-off dawn. He tucks himself tight to Renly, unable to care about the sweat or temperature either when he feels this good. He will be cold later, but for now he’s suffused with the warmth that comes from pleasure and love. 

Sleep, with its seductive soft hands, tugs at Loras to reclaim him in time with Renly’s steady heartbeat. It almost has him before he manages to shake free enough to speak.

“Do you mean to sleep here?” he asks, the words melting together in his mouth.

Renly pets his thumb behind Loras’ ear. “I told you,” he says, gentle-voiced, “it’s _my_ bed. Of course I’ll sleep here.” How he manages to sound so tender and so smug at the same time, Loras will never know. But he leans down to kiss Loras, his beard wet and his mouth bittersweet, and that lets Loras sink down again into the hold of the hand beckoning him to rest. Renly’s warm hand strokes his thigh, pulling it high over Renly’s own, keeping it there with a single squeeze.

**Author's Note:**

> I fool around on tumblr here: [crushcandles](https://crushcandles.tumblr.com/)


End file.
